vegan beauty and lifestyle

When I think of food which is, to me, synonymous with Christmas, it isn’t long before chutney comes to mind. A perfect, and quite frankly necessary, accompaniment to any vegan cheeseboard worth its salt, a good chutney – or relish, or pickle – adds flavour and interest to any party platter. While vegan-friendly chutneys are easy to come by in stores, making your own can be a lot of fun; you’ll appreciate it that much more for having made it yourself, and might even be able to part with a few jars to gift to your loved ones.

Every so often, the question of whether or not it is ethically acceptable to buy from cruelty-free brands who are owned by parent companies who test on animals comes up in the community, causing a little chatter as we all try to define and articulate our views on the subject. It has come up most recently following beloved cruelty-free brand Too Faced’s acquisition by notorious baddies, Estée Lauder. I’ve really been intrigued reading everyone’s opinions on this complex issue and, while it’s far from being a hot take, I thought I’d add my own voice to the mix.

Winter might not officially start until December, but once mid-November has rolled around, it feels more like it than not. The crisp but relatively mild days of Autumn, with its rust-coloured leaves and collectable conkers, have made way for a biting chill and a grey breeze on the air. And, as gloomy as that might sound in comparison, I’m welcoming the change.

Occasionally, I’ll take a peek at the ingredients of my favourite foundation or mascara, and be met with an incomprehensible list of chemicals which, although they have been cleared for use, are disconcerting nonetheless. Some of the main offenders are my favourite cruelty-free brands, which I have been loyal to (much to the despair of my bank balance) since deciding to use only vegan products. And while I haven’t had any adverse reactions to any of the products I’ve used, it has got me thinking about seeking more natural alternatives.

For the past few years, I’ve spent my Christmases alternating between my hometown of London and my boyfriend’s family in Sweden. As much as I adore being in Sweden for Christmas – with real snow, plenty of home comforts and a ridiculous amount of food – there’s something very special to me about being at home for Christmas, no matter how lovably dysfunctional the festive time can prove to be in my family (love you all, really!…).

Like many of you, I moved through Wednesday and indeed most days which have succeeded it in a state of near-constant despair and fear following the news that Donald Trump will be the next president of the United States. Again, like many of you, I had naively thought surely not, relegating the nightmare scenario to the back of my mind; surely attitudes in the nation had not reached this point. Surely an openly bigoted, hateful, misogynist rapist would not be elected to run the most powerful country in the world.Surely not, I thought, but then.

For as long as I can remember, and having begun in some undefined way, I have identified as a feminist. The notion of not being one simply never occurred to me – I believe in equality for all, and as self-identified women are in a position of being among the most oppressed on a global scale, “feminist” (rather than equalist or humanist) is a word I feel comfortable using to describe myself and my strongly held beliefs.

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